


Business As Usual

by Kalliopestarmist (KalliopeStarmist)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Casual Sex, F/F, F/M, Gossip, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Sounding, The Mother of Invention is a Sex Ship, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalliopeStarmist/pseuds/Kalliopestarmist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four Seven Niner discusses her coworkers' drama over beer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business As Usual

Marco had been skeptical about going out to pick someone up so soon after his breakup, but the cute pilot he was chatting up seemed nice. She would only tell him her call sign, but that wasn’t that weird. Lots of fighter pilots got a little too into it. They were having a very enjoyable conversation about different engine configurations, and he had scooted close enough to notice an adorable smattering of freckles along her nose, so really, it was a nice evening.

“Do you like to dance? There’s a good club not too far from-,” 

He was interrupted by her phone buzzing, and he politely waited for her to fist-pump over whatever the text was. “Good news?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m getting _mad_ laid tonight,” 479er said as she fired back a response. “York’s mad at Carolina because she’s mad at York for sleeping with Wash and North because she thought they were dating and York thought that to be dating you should go on dates and hold hands and talk about feelings, so now she wants to bone someone who doesn’t want to talk about feelings and that someone is gonna be _moi_.”

Marco blinked. This evening was taking a turn and he was not sure how he felt about that. “I’m… I’m sorry… are these friends of yours?”

“Nah, coworkers. Well. I’m their pilot. And sometimes they need a break from all the drama and that’s when ol’ 479er steps in, if you get what I mean. And like, not to count my chickens before they hatch, but I am due for some crazy-,” her phone went off again. “Speak of the devil. Aw yis, I was wondering when that dam was going to break.”

He must not have disguised his curiosity, because she took a look at him and grinned.“Oh, see, Washington’s been fucking South and North-,”

“South and North… Da-?”

“Dakota, yeah, they’re twins, right, and Wash has been sorta screwing around with both of them, you know, separately, but then North has been super uncomfortable fucking a dude who is also fucking his sister-well, fucking his sister as a regular thing. Like, most of us have fucked South, and it’s not like he’s gonna stop sleeping with Maine just because homeboy’s made the rounds. Man, it’s always the quiet ones, innit? Never heard that kid string two words together but he has filled his license plate collection if you get what I mean.”

“Are you all named after… states?”

“And like, a super freak. Have you ever heard of sounding? I sure as hell hadn’t, but the stuff he can fit in there…” 479er shook her head in quiet appreciation, then pulled her train of thought back on track before Marco had a chance to ask any more questions. “Right, so North told Washington that if they were going to be a thing that Wash had to break it off with South, which he just did. And it’s not like South really likes Wash that much, but she’s competitive as hell and she is pissed right the fuck off that Washington picked her brother over her and so that’s why she’s texting. And so now I’ve gotta decide which angry over-competitive hot space marine has to take a number. First world problems, am I right?”

She paused to take a swig of beer, which gave him a split second to pick a question to ask.

“I… where do you _work_?”

“Project Freelancer.”

“Freelance? Like, mercenaries?”

The phone buzzed out another flurry of incoming messages, which, judging from the lascivious smirk and the way she licked her lips before typing back, were all entirely inappropriate. “No, Project Freelancer is a UNSC side project. I mean, it started out that way. The director’s totally off his rocker and he has just zero accountability, so it’s mostly a bunch of kids getting put through the psychological ringer. You mark my words, you hear about a cult of pretty space soldiers in modded-up alien tech suits flying around on a giant space gun, that’s ol’ Project Freelancer.”

“Alien tech suits-?”

“Oh, and like, we keep knocking over legit military bases? Like, couple of weeks back we stole god-knows-what outta a Charon operation. Now, I don’t like to spread rumors, but all the Freelancers started getting AIs after that and those little robot dudes are not easy to make, right? For real, I think we straight-up stole a bunch of AIs. Like, NBD.”

She shrugged as if she had just admitted to parking illegally on occasion, instead of a whole slew of treason. Marco was speechless. "Oh my God.”

“They’re damn useful, though. I mean, I ain’t a big fan of robot scabs taking jobs from hard working humans, but York’s little green dude is all right. He does the positioning for their orgies, which is bonkers.”

“Orgies? You use an AI for-"

“ _So_ many orgies. You get ten or so beautiful, fit, young people together in a ship, let them know they could die at any minute, and then make them bond, and _try_ to stop the orgies from happening. I walked in on a bunch of them once and let me tell you it was some kama sutra shit up in there. I mean, not really my scene but not _not_ my scene, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“So everyone…" Marco found himself struggling to articulate what about this, if anything, he did understand. "...is just sleeping with everyone?”

“Well except Florida. I think he’s ace? Man’s dick is totally useless to me, but like, whatever, I’m not exactly starving for choice, and Flowers is a fucking national treasure, let me tell you. Like, you ever need a couch moved, he shows up with beer and a Uhaul, no questions. Oh, and for a while Texas wasn’t sleeping with anyone? But then she broke up with her boyfriend that I guess she had? Which is completely fucking absurd, I mean,  I’m pretty sure CT has a boyfriend on the outside and she still gets down. And CT hates everyone.”

“CT? Is that… Ooh, Connecticut. OK, I get you." He signaled for her to go on, not that she was paying any attention.

“And it just ain’t a Freelancer Party without CT, so it’s going to suck when she goes AWOL, but what are you gonna do? Girl’s hella woke and nobody in their right mind wants on this sinking ship. I’m gonna be straight with you, Markie, we’re all going to jail when this bubble bursts.”

“Jail?” Marco’s eyes widened, “Wait, you said-,”

“Right, so Tex left her boyfriend or something. I dunno, I just know that she started bangin’ Wyoming because he’s the only one who doesn’t care if Carolina doesn’t let him sit at the cool kids’ table. Carolina fucking hates that woman. Like, seriously, if you see her around do _not_ tell her that I’ve hit that. I mean, I have hit that and ooh man, I regret nothing. Texas is a precious murder cinnamon bun, though, don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Wh- what does that even mean?”

“She’ll literally rip your skull out of your head and beat you to death with it but I had to explain to her that ‘let’s review some of your training exercise tapes after dinner’ is not the Director being friendly, he is hitting on you, that was hitting, you sweet deadly dumb baby angel. Oh my god, how do you not-”

“Wait, is it even physically possible to beat someone to death with their own skull?”

479er slammed her beer stein down on the table and looked him dead in the eye for the first time since her phone had gone off. “She’ll kill you dead, like, don’t even _fucking_ try it.”

“Try… what am I trying? I’m not trying anything." Marco held up his hands in surrender, scooting back on his stool in fear. "I don’t even _know_ this woman.”

Thankfully, her phone went off again, and she immediately went back to smirking at it.

“Heh, oh man, look at what Carolina sent me,” she laughed, holding her phone up so he could skim a series of very explicit texts accompanied by some very explicit emojis.  “It is _so_ on tonight. Bow chika wow wow.”

“Uh...this… is a series of death threats.”

“I know. Sploosh, motherfucker.”

“So… you drive getaway for a rogue UNSC branch where everyone is named after states and they all bone between sabotaging the military?" He checked nervously over his shoulder for any law enforcement officers who might be listening in. "Is this… should… should you have told me all this? Am I an accomplice now? _Are you going to kill me?_ ”

She stood up and pushed her empty mug towards the bartender without taking her eyes off her phone. “Yeah, so, look, I gotta go before South and Carolina realize they’re both trying to book me for the evening, but hey, thanks for the beer, man.”

Later, Marco's friends would tell him that she just really hadn't wanted to give him her number.

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing I really want you to take away from this fic is the phrase "Precious Murder Cinnamon Bun."
> 
> Also, I had to invent 4 pairing tags for this fic. Four. That's a travesty, RvB fandom. We gotta be churning out more Freelancer group sex. Hop to that.


End file.
